Something Wicked
by Ms Shay X Pear
Summary: When Zelena comes to visit him in his cell, Gold finds out exactly how much like her Mother the Wicked Witch of the West is. M for Wicked Gold smut naturally


Something Wicked 

Spinning. Must keep spinning. Spin the madness away. He tells himself this over and over as he sits in his cold dark cell. His fingers ache and it's hard to even see what he's doing in the gloom but he doesn't dare to stop. It's the only thing keeping him from losing his fragile grip on sanity.

He hears the click of heels on the steps leading down to the cellar and it momentarily freezes him in place. There's a flash of copper hair in the corner of his vision but he keeps spinning, not daring to look her in the eye.  
She doesn't like that. Being ignored. He hears the click as she unlocks the door and opens it, then a small clang as she puts down the tray of food she's carrying. His breath catches slightly as he feels the cold press of steel against his cheek. "Stand up" hisses her soft, seductive voice in his ear.  
The power of his dagger tugs at him like a marionette on a string and he gets up to his feet, looking her directly in the eyes for the first time. Her lips are curved in a sneer and there's something unnerving about the look in those blue eyes. Something almost predatory.

"I brought you a fresh shirt…" she says, and this time her voice is matter of fact rather than seductive. It's only then he notices the fabric slung over her arm. He looks away, not wanting to change in front of her but knowing she'll give him no choice. "Shirt" she says firmly and he feels the tug of the dagger again.  
His hands fumble with the buttons and he can sense her impatience, her eyes boring into him. Once the buttons are undone, he slips off the shirt and practically throws it at her. She catches it with a laugh and passes him the crisp clean new shirt.

When he fumbles with the first button she steps forward and does it herself. Her profile invades his vision as she deftly does up the buttons and adjusts the collar so it lies neatly.  
"There… much better" she says, her voice smug and satisfied. She's so close… far too close and he tries to take shallow breaths so he won't breathe in her perfume.  
Her fingers grip his chin and turn his head so he has no choice to look her in the eyes. "Aren't you going to say thank you?" she purrs in his ear. She reminds him so much of Cora and he hates her for it… even more than he hates the fact she's holding him in this cell against his will.  
"Thank you…" he mutters, his own voice sounding strange to his ears. Her lips curve in a smirk and he wants so badly to hurt her that his fingers twitch, aching to wrap themselves around that slender white throat. But he can't of course. Not when she has in her hand the one weapon that can control him.

"You know Rumpel…" she says, her tone slightly reproachful. "If you just stopped fighting me… I could let you out of the cage. You'd like that wouldn't you?" she adds, her voice soft, sweet and persuasive.  
His body tenses as she lightly strokes his hair, fingers brushing his cheek in a gesture that is almost tender. He watches her warily as she rests a hand on his cheek and slowly leans in towards him.

Her lips press against his jaw and it's a sweet shock to his senses… half of him wanting to push her away and half of him wanting to pull her closer. The war between his upper and lower body distracts him enough that he takes a deep breath and that in itself is a mistake. With her perfume fogging his brain he can't even think straight.

She takes his face in her hands and he can't seem to pull away as she presses her lips firmly against his. Her lips taste like the sweetest poison and for a moment… just a moment he forgets himself and kisses her back.

Her fingers slide into his hair, pulling him slightly closer and deepening the kiss. He tries not to react but he feels himself give in it. It's only when her tongue slips between his lips that he remembers who he's kissing so passionately.

A growl escapes him and he grabs her arms to push her away but by this time his lower half of his body has won the fight and he can feel himself starting to become aroused. She gasps softly as he pushes her roughly against the bars, pinning her between the bars and his body.

Her lips curve in a smirk and a laugh leaves her lips that is the same time mocking and lustful. He cuts the laugh off with a deep, hungry kiss that has no gentleness about it what so ever. He will not show this woman anything approaching tenderness.  
His hands slide all over her body… her waist, her hips, her breasts and she lets out a small moan that sends a rush of blood straight to his cock. She feels his arousal press against her thigh and looks at him with a wicked, triumphant expression.

Then her hand is between his legs. Squeezing, stroking… teasing him through the material of his trousers. And even though he hates her as much as ever he can't help a deep moan. Can't help that his hips move slightly into her touch. Can't help that he grows even harder under her hand.

Her fingers quickly underbutton his shirt and slide it off, dropping it on the floor. Then she tugs at the buckle of his belt, pulling it undone. A small sound of relief escapes him when she pulls down his zipper and releases him from the confinement of his trousers.  
This is wrong… he knows it… but his eyes still follow her hands as they slid under the black dress she wearing. He can't help sucking in a breath when she slides her underwear down her legs.

She grips his shoulders as he lifts her up, pushing her dress up her thighs and bracing her back against the bars of the cage. The expression on her face is taunting, daring him to do it. If she wants to tangle with the Dark One then so be it. He knows in that moment that he will neither hold back nor show mercy.

With one smooth thrust he pushes deep into her, feeling her nails dig into his skin and her back arch against the bars. She feels unbelievable… wet and tight… and it's all he can do not to moan. One of her legs lifts up to wrap around his waist.  
Her head falls back as he starts to thrust, hard and deep, gripping the bars and using them as leverage. His fingers clench slightly as he feels her body shudder around his.  
A deep groan escapes his lips before he can stop it and she grins like the cat who has gotten the cream. He growls softly and slams his hips hard against hers, making her gasp. He doesn't really care if he hurts her. She asked for this and she will take it. Every inch of it.

She moves her hips against his as his thrusts become faster, rougher and less controlled. Every moment of frustration, every flash of anger, every dark lustful thought he's ever had towards her is going into the relentless pounding of his body into hers.

His bad leg is cramping up slightly and her back is sure to have some interesting bruises the next day but he continues to thrust into her mercilessly, not letting up for even a moment. He can tell by the expression on her face and the tension in her body that she's as close as he is.

She comes with a deep groan, her body tensing and shuddering around his… and it almost, almost brings his own orgasm.  
The feeling of her nails raking down his back draws a hiss from his lips, pushes him over the edge. A few more deep hard thrusts and he reaches his climax, groaning his pleasure as he comes deep inside the wicked witch.  
He pulls out of her and lowers her to the floor before slumping breathless against the bars. She watches him as she pulls her underwear back up, straightens her clothes and runs her fingers through her long curly red hair. By the time his breathing starts to go back to normal no one would suspect what she'd just been doing.  
As the pleasant buzz of endorphins start to wear off the scratches in his back and the pain in his leg make their presence known. He winces slightly but manages to limp over to the stool and sit down, taking the weight off his leg.  
"Don't forget to eat your food…" she says, glancing over at the tray. "You're going to need your strength…" she adds, her voice a mocking, seductive purr. He put his head in his hands, not looking up until she has locked the cage and left the room.  
His eyes fall on the tray. Sitting next to the bottle of water and the sandwiches is a crisp green apple. He grabs it and throws it away, watching as it rolls slowly along the floor. Clearly when it comes to Zelena… the apple fell very close to the tree.


End file.
